


Badger

by rudbeckia



Series: Spookylux Huxloween 2018 [5]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Mild Horror, Skeletons, benarmie, huxloween 2018, mention of animal cruelty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-16 14:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16088195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Huxloween day 5: Lovecraftian storiesBen stars to tell Hux a story but Hux hates it. Instead, Ben tells Hux about his day helping out the local crime scene investigators with a perplexing death in a rural community.Shamelessly based on Lovecraft’s “The Cats of Ulthar”





	Badger

“It is said that in Ulthar, which lies beyond—,” intoned Ben. Hux shook his head.  
“No. No, please.”  
“the River Skai—“  
“Please stop.”  
“No man may kill—“  
“I mean it!”  
“Okay,” said Ben with a grin and a shrug. “You want a different story?”  
Hux nodded. “Please. I hate Lovecraft.”  
“I’ll just tell you about my day then.” Ben settled back into a corner of the sofa. Hux occupied the other, cocoa mug set carefully on the coffee table first in case of scalding spills. Once comfortable, Hux retrieved his cocoa and took a sip.  
“I’d like that,” he said. “So how was your day?”  
Ben sipped his cocoa too and closed his eyes to help visualise the scenes from his day. “You like animals, don’t you?”  
Hux met Ben’s gaze then looked away. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Ben watched Hux for a few seconds before he began. “I got a call this morning to go out to a house and take photos. You know, crime scene stuff.” He waited for Hux’s smile to appear.  
“Oh the forensics folks used you again? That’s good. Foot in the door and all that.”  
“Yeah.” Ben smiled back. “Apparently I’m first call when the regular guy is sick.”  
“It would be nice if—“ Hux bit back _if you had a regular salary._ It was exactly the sort of thing Brendol would have said. Instead he finished with, “if you got more experience on a professional team like that.”  
“Thanks,” replied Ben with a rueful little smile, “for not mentioning the money.”  
Hux shrugged. “Tell me your story.”  
“Well,” Ben slurped his cocoa and Hux tutted. “They called and gave me gps coordinates instead of an address. I packed my camera bag and drove out to this crumbly old house in the middle of nowhere. Seriously creepy, I mean, it was one of those little, low-roofed, grey, stone houses set in the middle of a field with only a rutted track leading up to it off the proper road. My bones felt cold just looking at the place. There were thick trees behind it; apparently the whole area was dense forest a couple hundred years ago and the house used to be inside the forest.”  
“I bet a witch lived in it,” said Hux with a knowing nod. He leaned forward and lowered his voice in both pitch and volume. “In the dark dark woods there was a dark dark house...”  
“Hey,” said Ben, laughing. “Whose story is this? I thought it was my turn!”  
“I do apologise,” said Hux, sitting back again. “Please continue.”  
“I stopped the car before I reached the gate because the suspension seriously couldn’t take all the bumps. The rest of the team weren’t there yet so I sat in the car and watched the house. The windows were small and square and black, the door and window frames were peeling paint, and the most cheerful thing about the whole scene was the solitary strip of ‘Police Crime Scene Do Not Cross’ yellow and black tape across the gate.”

Ben drank more cocoa. Hux watched the way his lips touched the mug and the way his eyes fluttered closed and the way his throat moved when he swallowed.  
“Anyway. I thought I’d get out of the car and have a look around. Maybe take a few artsy photos of my own before I had to go inside with the team. So I walked to the back of the house and there was a little backyard. That was the creepiest thing I had ever seen, up to that moment. There were skulls. Animal skulls. All sorts. I took a few photographs. I thought I recognised fox, cat and rat, but there were others. There was one with teeth like a dog and a ridge on its skull.”  
“Badger, I bet. Can I see?” asked Hux, sitting up.  
“Mm, later,” replied Ben. “I had the weirdest feeling that I was being watched. I turned to look at the tree line and I could have sworn there was movement. Something rustling in the long grass, something leaping from a branch, something bigger, like a moving shadow between the trunks. It was pretty dark in there and it was overcast today, so the sky was this dull, stony grey that matched the house. I walked a few steps towards the forest, but I heard another car pull up to the house and turned my head when I heard doors slam. When I looked between the trees again there was nothing. Just the wind in the leaves.”

Hux was rapt. Cocoa mug abandoned and cooling on the table, he dared not take his eyes off Ben’s face.  
“I went back around the front and met the scene of crime team. We got suited up and went inside the house. It was colder inside than outside, I swear, and real dark. The electric was off. Apparently the folks who lived there stopped paying their bills and got cut off a month back and the shopkeeper from the village a couple of miles away who reported them missing said she hadn’t seen them for a couple of weeks before that. So I expected to be photographing corpses that had been left to decay for maybe six weeks or more.”  
Hux made a wrinkly face. Ben snorted.  
“I know, right? Stink and flies. But when I went inside, there was nothing.” He shook his head slowly. “No smell. No flies or beetles. Nothing. Inspector Holdo said she thought the bodies might have been carried off into the forest and the remains scattered, or maybe it was all a huge misunderstanding and the old couple had gone to Marbella for the winter without telling anyone.”  
Hux nodded. “Brendol and Maratelle always talked about doing that but Brendol hated foreigners. He once complained about Spaniards speaking Spanish in Spain.”  
Ben scoffed. “He hated me, didn’t he?”  
“Yes,” said Hux. “Said you were a grasping yankee bastard after my money.”  
Ben quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? You have money?”  
“No.” Hux said. “Only my meagre earnings. Sorry. Back to the story, please.”  
“Okay. So we’re all crowded into the living room doorway. There were two mouldy mugs on the floor. One had been knocked over and the carpet was green and furry where the tea or whatever had spilled out. The TV guide from seven weeks ago was open on the floor and there were brown stains on the pages. Holdo shooed everyone out and put down evidence markers and those plastic stepping stone thingies and I took pictures. Then she let the others in for a look and we went into the kitchen.” 

Ben paused to finish his cocoa. Hux watched, sucking his own lip in sympathy.  
“Weirdest thing I have ever seen. Two skeletons, completely clean, no sign of skin or flesh or blood or anything. Both looked like they had been dragged around a bit and had got disarticulated in places. A few of the littlest bones were missing. But you’d expect some... _bits_ to be clinging still. Hair, at least.”  
Hux realised he was leaning forwards. He shook out his shoulders and sat back again.  
“Holdo did her thing and I did mine. I took some close ups of the bones and there were marks on them. Little dents and nicks and grooves, like a bone you’d given to your dog yesterday.” Ben sighed. “We finished up fast as we could. By the time we were done it was getting dark and there was no electric so there were no lights in the house. The team bagged up the remains. I showed Holdo the backyard and from close up it was even creepier. The feeling that we were being watched from the forest came back, and I could not wait to get the fuck out of there. We decided to meet up in the village again before calling it a day. There was a pub and a chip shop and Holdo said—”  
“Are you serious?” Hux looked aghast. “You were hungry after that?”  
Ben shrugged. “Not so much that as Holdo wanted a stiff drink.”

After a few seconds, Hux spoke up. “Come on, what happened next?”  
“I came home. That’s it.”  
“That’s your whole story?”  
“Yes,” said Ben. “That’s what I did at work today.”  
“Oh come _on!”_  
Ben grinned. “All right. I met the farmer who owned the land around the skeleton house in the pub. After a couple of pints she said the couple used to set traps for the wildlife. Her son found out—he’s only nine—and he got real upset. She said his eyes went all funny and he said some stuff like _the animals will get their revenge_ and _now they’ll find out what it’s like to be trapped and eaten_ whilst pointing at the sky, but she wrote it off as something satanic he learned off the internet and installed stricter parental controls. She only remembered after I told her what we’d found.”  
Hux frowned and chewed his lip. “Do you really think it could have been the forest creatures getting their own back?”  
“Nah,” replied Ben. “But the entire community has taken an unprecedented interest in animal welfare. This is now the only county in which farmers agreed unanimously to vote against the badger cull.”


End file.
